


Let's Try That Again

by Kneverk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel is queer, Happy Ending, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Castiel (Supernatural), I love my boys and genderqueer celestial beings, Idiots in Love, Jack Kline uses he/they pronouns, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester is Scarred For Life, Temporary Character Death, set after 15x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kneverk/pseuds/Kneverk
Summary: What kind of happy ending was that? Here, have this insteadWhere the final battle goes a little bit different.
Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Michael & Adam Milligan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Let's Try That Again

The stone grinded against Dean’s aging spine, but that wasn't exactly on his mind. The facts rang through his head: Cas was gone. He died for Dean. He- he lo- felt that way. About me.  
Dean was sobbing, true, girly, chick flick sobs. Really, who could blame him? He’d kept those tears in for a while. A long, long, long while. Then Cas goes and says… all that, and Dean was too in shock to say anything back and… well. He sobbed. Ugly, disgusting, useless tears gathered on his face and in his hands. He glanced at the blood stain on his shoulder. The goddamned handprint.  
The phone.  
Right.  
It buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed… Dean heard it the sound echo long after it stilled. He didn’t even care to silence it. Better to hear buzzing then… you changed me, Dean. I love you. Yet still he heard it. Over, and over, and over, like it was taunting him. You could’ve had this, Dean Winchester. You could’ve pulled your head out of your ass and been strong. Been brave. Held Cas and made him happy. Instead you’re here. Worthless. Broken. Failure. Dick.  
The door clicked open, and hushed murmurs were exchanged. It was Sam and Jack, no doubt. Dean didn’t care though. Cas was- he was- he- Cas-  
“Dean? What-” Sam paused, glancing around frantically while Jack just focused their eyes on the handprint on Dean’s shoulder. “Where is Cas.” Sam asked, a finality to the statement, like he knew. He didn’t. He couldn’t.   
Several beats of silence passed, if you didn’t count Dean’s shaky breaths and hics. “He’s gone,” Dean whispered, afraid that if he said it too loud it’d be too much. But it already was, and Dean started up crying again, like a weakling.  
“No…” Sam helpfully replied. “How did this happen, Dean?”   
Dean didn’t respond.  
“Is he dead?” Jack managed to get out, their voice breaking through every word. Dean just nodded slowly, carefully.  
“How-”  
“The Empty.” Jack explained, too knowingly, to Sam. “It would come when he was truly happy… and- and it must’ve been able to kill Billie.” Jack was solemn. They were reserved, repressing, not crying just yet. It seemed they weren’t really present. Taken like a true Winchester.  
“No, that couldn’t… Dean,” Sam said Dean’s name all caring and worried and shit. Like it helped. Like losing someone like Cas could be fixed with a little worry and comfort.  
Silence again. Dean couldn’t hear that, he couldn’t, not with those words echoing in his head over and over just taunting his stupidity.  
“Leave me,” was probably not the thing to say that would help make the silence go away.  
Yet Sam and Jack listened, and left Dean so, so alone. Like everyone always does. The door clicked shut, and Dean went back to his crying.

Sam

Dean came out of that room to grab a bottle of whiskey, then retreated to his own room. Sam heard hics, sobs, small whimpers coming from beyond that door. He was tempted to do the same, except… Jack needed him, and the world needed him. Eileen-  
He couldn’t go there.  
While Sam was buried in research, Jack across the table staring at his feet, a familiar woosh sound came from behind him. Sam jerked up to see Michael. Er, Adam. Both.  
“Hello, Sam.” Michael nodded, turned, “Jack.” They only looked up to nod back, then back to their feet. They seemed a bit broken by the loss of Cas, in a stronger way than Sam was… but hell, if it didn’t hurt from all angles.  
“Uh, hi, Michael. Right?”  
“Yes.”  
“I hope you’ve come bearing gifts. We’re kind of…” the words faded out, having left the rest of the sentence for everyone’s imagination. Screwed. Hopeless. Fucked.  
“I never thought my father would go this far.” Michael stared into oblivion, then took a deep breath, eyes glowing. His whole demeanor shifted, slouching a bit, not casually, but out of habit, and his weight shifted more to the left foot.  
“Oh, hey guys.” It was Adam. He looked around, and furrowed his brow. “So, where’s Dean? We have ideas for how to… manage, but he needs to hear it too.”  
Sam shook his head. What could he say? Oh, you know my brother’s drunk as fuck cause he’s mourning the love of his life of twelve years? No biggie.  
“We… we know Cas is gone.” He shook his head. “Michael hates the guy but… I’m still sorry.”  
“Yeah he-”  
“What’s the plan?” Jack interrupted, Sam just looking at them concerned. Adam hesitated, but chugged on.  
“Now that Amara and Chuck are fused, they’ll be harder to take down. But, we don’t really need to. We just need to stall them long enough to be able to banish them to the Empty.”  
“What? How?” Jack looked as confused as Sam felt.  
“See, nothing can stop such a great being as that. Light and darkness and all.” Adam gestured vaguely upward. “But we can get them outta here. For, well, probably some time.”  
Jack shook their head. “The Empty has no power over Chuck and vice versa. And how do we know, if this does work, that the Empty wouldn’t just spit them back out like it did with-” Jack coughed, cleared their throat, and opened their mouth to finish the sentence. They then closed it, shaking their head.  
“In the beginning, it was only Chuck, Amara, the Empty, and maybe Death. So they can coexist, and we just kinda gotta hope they’ll stay. Chuck has no way to get out, and we have this spell that can attempt to give the Empty no way to Earth either. It’s not foolproof, but-”  
“It’s all we got,” Sam finished, sighing. That was all they ever had: barely a hope. TFW had scraped by for too long with barely a hope, and Sam was starting to wonder if joining Eileen in Heaven would be so bad.  
Don’t go there, Sam. Don’t, he told himself, gathering up his will to fight for this world.  
“What can we do?” Jack asked.

They had most of the spell ingredients. All they needed was a powerful connection from someone on Earth to the Empty, the power of Death, and Chuck and Amara’s gullibility.  
Oh, yeah, that was kind of a key part.  
“How-” Sam started, then shook his head. “How the hell do we get the power of Death? Let alone a human connection to the Empty?” Sam sighed, exasperated, exhausted, done. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it together.  
“Dean Winchester has-” Michael had been driving for a while, but breathed suddenly, and his eyes glowed. Sam guessed Adam wanted to step in. Adam cleared his throat. “Well, Dean is- was- connected to Cas. Again, I’m… I’m really sorry. But Cas is in the Empty now, and Dean’s here, on Earth...” Adam trailed off, a guilty look on his face.  
Sam nodded, wary of what Dean would need to do to connect with the Empty, afraid that it would break him even further. But then there Dean was, leaning against a bookshelf, clearly a little more than tipsy.   
“What do I need to do to get him back.”

Dean

They were all briefed on how to do what they needed to do, but they still needed Death’s power to wrap things together.   
“Death?” Dean asked, appalled. He'd sobered up a little but really wasn't in any state to be doing world-saving. Due to the alcohol. Only the alcohol. Dean took his time glaring at every one of them. “Death.”  
“Yes, Death,” Adam responded, exhausted.  
The bunker then sat in silence for a bit, no one quite knowing what to do or say. Dean had just killed death, and lost- he lost- an important person. The most, besides Sam. Of course Dean fucked the Chuck situation up too, and killed- him because of it. Not only is- he- not only is he dead but the whole world would surely collapse all because of a stupid, angry, thoughtless decision Dean made because that’s all he knows how to do! Tears were welling up Dean’s eyes before Jack interjected.  
“I don’t know, but I have something… promising?” Jack said, more of a question than a suggestion. “I’ve been killing plants all around me just by touching them. Does-” Jack looked around, silenting asking if they were being useful, being good, doing the right thing- or maybe Dean was just projecting. “Does that mean anything?”  
Adam stopped pacing and Sam looked to Jack with hope in his eyes. Damn, it hurt to see his little brother hope, but in a bright way. Dean idly hoped Sam would get out of this mess, find a girl, settle down, while he swished the beer in his bottle ‘round and ‘round. “That could mean something.” Adam said, not really bringing Dean back to reality but reminding him that the option was there. “Let Michael-” inhale, glowing eyes.  
“Hello, Jack. I’m going to look at your soul now.” Michael strided forward to Jack, who still sat in their chair, a little startled as Michael reached his hand into his ribcage. Dean didn’t really care to look. If you’d seen a soul examined once by an angel, you’ve seen it a thousand times.  
Michael almost immediately stepped back. “You’re… you’re not really a Nephilim anymore.”  
“I’m… not?” Jack asked, tilting their head, and Dean smirked for a brief moment before remembering why that brought a smile to his face. He didn’t dare to think the name. Dean didn’t let those thoughts rise farther than the depths hidden and dimmed by the alcohol.  
“No,” Michael questioned, “You aren’t a Reaper… or Death either, yet you wield that power. Unknowingly, and clearly lacking in skill, but you have it.” Michael seemed satisfied, and he took in another breath before the glowing eyes and boom Adam. Just like that. Adam was free, in control. “I thought we’d have to kill another Reaper or something,” he chuckled. No one else laughed. “Uh, well, let’s go get em.”

It was some field that they chose to do this in. Dean didn’t care enough to pay attention to more than his own part of the plan. He had his own plan.  
They were supposed to taunt Chuck into showing, then open that rift to the Empty with Dean’s prayers, chuck Chuck in, and leave it, sealing the rift forever, never letting anyone from the Empty ever return. But if no one could return, Cas couldn’t return. He’d be stuck there, forever, having never known- never known that- he could’ve- it didn’t matter. Cas was coming back.  
Dean’s plan included jumping into that rift himself and either bringing Cas with him or never leaving Cas again. It wasn’t much of a plan, he knew the Empty was a vast space where nothing could be found if it didn’t want to be, but Dean didn’t care. Fuck all of them, fuck everything, I need to tell him I- It didn’t matter what Dean felt or how thought out this plan was. Cas was getting back and that sonofabitch was going to live and be free and happy whether he liked it or not.  
“Chuck you asshole get down here! We’ve got a lot to talk about!” Dean yelled, full of anger he didn’t really feel. It was desperation driving him. And… love.  
“Oh, hi guys, didn’t expect to see you so soon,” he chucked, appearing out of nowhere, waving and moving so casually, like he hadn’t just ended everyone else’s world. Chuck surveilled the people there, eyes going first to Jack, then Sam, Dean, and finally Michael. “Oh hey kid, funny seeing you here.”  
“Father,” Michael spat out with disdain. It could’ve been funny how similar he and Dean sounded when talking about their dads, you know, if not for everything going to shit.  
“Son,” Chuck sighed out, “Working with the Winchesters. You know,” Chuck pointed, not really to anything, “these guys used to be my favorite. But they’re so frustrating. Now you? My most loyal child?”  
Michael shook his head, disgusted. “A human you sent me to hell with has been kinder and more sincere to me than you ever were.”  
Now it was distraction time. Jack needed to do some yada yada bullshit behind Chuck’s back while Dean's heart was “connecting with the one of the other side of the Empty,” as if Dean could ever stop thinking about him.  
“You’re gonna bring him back. Now!” Dean yelled desperately. He thought, absently, that if Chuck really did bring Ca- him back, he’d collapse into that angel’s arms and never end up saving the world.  
Chuck rolled his asshole eyes. “Why would I ever do that. Oh, is little Dean sad he lost his boyfriend?” Jack was moving, good. Chuck was distracted.   
Dean’s anger was simmering, but what overtook it was defeat. “Yes,” he admitted, not even caring to correct that it was a could’ve-been-boyfriend, because how much more humiliating is that. Jack kept writing in a black substance. Dean didn’t pay enough attention to know what.  
“Wow, taking steps to acknowledge your sexuality! Now that is character development I did not write you with, you stubborn son of a bitch.” Chuck teased.  
“I don’t care what you wrote, bring him back. I’ll do anything, I swear-”   
Dark goo- all too familiar- started forming behind Chuck. Dean kicked him in, leaving no time for Chuck to react, and jumped after, hearing shouts of protest echo away. It was Chuck, Dean, and this newly formed dark figure, slowly turning into Meg’s last meatsuit.   
Dean glanced around in alarm; the Empty was nothing like he pictured. Well, it was exactly what you'd think from the outside, with some key details missing. It was dark, black, sure, all that. But it was loud, yet quiet, yet- Dean did not have the damn poetry skills to describe it. Like a yelling in his head that navigates around his ears. Or a whisper filled with distain and managed anger.   
“I don’t need more of you!” the Empty pleaded, gesturing vaguely at Chuck and Dean, black tears streaming down its face. “It’s too loud here!”  
Chuck’s body slowly turned into a conjoined twins amalgamation before oozing into two separate forms, Amara, and Chuck.  
“It’s been a while since we were here, brother.”  
“Yes, and why did you do that?!” Chuck looked offended. Serves that fucker right.  
“I didn’t… try to.” Amara looked stunned. “The first time we were here, we had been separate and together at once. This is where that cage lied…”  
The Empty let out a long shout that drew everyone’s attention to it. “Make it quiet again!”  
“I would,” Amara said while turning her gaze to Chuck. “But only you can do that.”  
“What are you talking about?!” Chuck said, panicked.  
Amara turned back to the Empty, and nodded a silent understanding of something, Dean couldn’t tell what. Then, black goo started consuming Chuck and Amara from the feet up.  
“Amara, no! Why?” Chuck yelled, desperately looking for answers in his sister.  
“We belong here, not in harmony, and not destroying an Earth you built so beautifully. I’m sorry.” Amara seemed at least a little apologetic, but not very. She seemed happy with what she was doing. She was brought into the black goo in peace.  
Chuck however kicked and screamed before turning into the blackness that surrounded them.  
“What do you want!?” the Empty snarled, glaring at Dean. “I want it quiet! I want you out! What is keeping you here?”  
Dean smirked. “Cas,” and it wasn’t really meant to be the start of a prayer, but Dean went with the flow. “Got your ears on? It’s time to come home. Let’s be happy on Earth instead of this shitshow.” Tears streamed down his face, eyes stinging, his heartbeat quickening, and a deep feeling that could’ve been anxiety, could’ve been excitement, and could’ve been love blossomed inside his gut.  
“No, no, no, NO!” the Empty cried. “I wanted him to suffer! I want him asleep! But you woke him up, and now I want you both out!”  
He’s awake, Dean thought, relieved. He searched the surprisingly (and by that he means totally unsurprisingly) empty landscape for Cas, who suddenly appeared laying down a few feet (whatever that meant here) away.  
Dean ran toward Cas and kneeled down. Cas' eyes were closed, but he was stirring slowly.  
"C'mon Cas, let's go. Let's get outta here." Dean picked Cas up bridal style, and started meandering toward the little rip in the Empty 's blackness.  
Several other figures started to rise from the sludge, and Dean recognized a few as Angels he killed or watched die.  
"All of you! OUT!" the Empty shouted, the shrill voice echoing through the void. The figures started shambling toward the portal, and Dean quickened his steps, trying not to be caught in the path of any of them.  
Dean practically fell out of the rift, setting Cas down on the ground, who looked semi-conscious, but still in a sleep state.  
"Dean, what the hell!" Sam yelled, "this wasn't the pla-" he stopped, seeing Cas.  
Then all of the other angels and demons shambled out, forming a crowd of clearly confused celestial beings. Michael snapped, and they all disappeared.  
"Where…" Jack started, "where did they go?" They looked around, tilting their head, and Dean looked back to Cas, sleeping (kind of) and grinned. It really was his kid.  
"I sent the Angels to Heaven and the Demons to Hell. Otherwise, we might've needed to fight them, and I don't think lover boy is up for that."  
Dean flipped Michael off, but never tore his gaze from Cas. Cas was really… really back. They had so much to talk about.  
Sam started chanting, and oh, right. The goal was to seal away the Empty, not just get Cas back. The rift stitched itself back together, and faded away.  
Jack, Sam, and Dean were exchanging grins, looking between each other.  
"We're free." Sam sighed. "We're free."

Cas

Cas had heard vague mumblings, but was edging in and out of consciousness so much he couldn't tell which were dreams. Something about good to have you back, memory foam mattress, and I hope you don’t mind this bed, I assume we’ll be using it together. It was Dean’s voice, but clearly Cas was dreaming about his regrets, because those words used together implied something that Cas could never have.  
Blinking his eyes open, Cas found Dean silently watching from a chair pulled out from a desk. “Hey Cas, welcome to the land of the living.” Dean smiled and flushed. Cas was going to question why, but more important questions needed answering.  
“How am I here?” Cas groggily sat up, turning to dangle their legs off the bed. “Do you need me to fight Chuck?”  
Dean chuckled, and wasn’t that a bright sound. “No, Cas. We got ‘em for good. Just happened to pick you up on the way.” Dean giggled. Giggled. Cas had to be dreaming.  
Cas slowly brought up a hand ready to pinch his arm. That’s what they did in films. If this was really Dean, he’d appreciate the effort. So they pinched their arm… and it hurt. Not the usual numbed Angel hurt, it felt something close to human.   
Dean huffed out a laugh before reaching out to wrap his arms around Cas from the chair he sat at. “You’re in my bed, I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured. Lost in the feeling of warmth, real, human warmth, Cas didn’t think about what humans who have proclaimed their love typically do in beds.  
After Dean finally pulled away, not that Cas was really looking forward to the loss, Dean ended up with a soulful look in his eyes and tears running down his face.  
“Son of a bitch. I missed you.” Cas expected it to end there, for Dean to walk away and let Cas rest, or grab food, or something. Emotional conversations weren’t a thing they had in this family. Yet, Dean sat down on the bed and moved closer to Cas. Even running his fingers through their hair. Cas’ hair.  
“Dean,” Cas said, their tone walking the line between thankful and regretful. “You don’t have to change your behavior because of what I said before I died.”  
Dean just laughed. After all these years of pining and that fucker had the audacity to laugh. “Cas, you think things wouldn’t change? Like I didn’t love you back?”  
Cas’ eyes widened. There was no way-  
“Mmph!”  
Dean was kissing Cas, and Cas kissed back, having forgotten to close his eyes per human customs. He instinctively caressed Dean's face and pulled him in close. Their eyes fluttered shut anyway due to the sensation. But Cas had to know more, had to talk, as annoying as that was. They pushed Dean away with a hand on his chest.  
“Dean, why didn’t you say anything?” Cas tilted their head.  
“Why didn’t you? Only on your deathbed do I get to hear- hear…” Dean trailed off, leaning into Cas’ hand, which still rested on his cheek. “We could’ve had it. The one thing you wanted.”  
Cas pulled Dean closer, staring him in the eyes. “Yes, well, we can have it now.”  
Dean pecked Cas' cheek. "Question," Cas nodded back, "how do you feel about sex?"  
Cas couldn't help but smirk a little. "Why don't we find out?" Dean sucked in a breath, and what they “found out” was their business.

Sam

"Rise and shine," Sam chuckled as Dean shambled his way into the kitchen, donning only his dead guy's robe and some sweatpants. Speaking of exposed skin (that Sam really didn't need to see)...  
"Is that a hickey?" Sam surveyed his brother and yep, those were hickeys. A lot of them.   
"Mm," was Dean's response as he nearly spilled his coffee trying to pour it.  
"Did you really bring back a girl the day Cas got back? I mean, yeah celebrate world saving yada yada, but. Come on, Dean." Sam knew that Dean would call Sam's current expression a bitch face, but you know what? He deserved it.  
Dean sipped coffee then set the mug down abnormally slowly. He blinked several times. "A girl?" Dean then looked down to the state of his bruises, "Ohh, yeah. Mhm and it was good," Dean waggled his eyebrows up and down.  
Sam just facepalmed. "I mean, me and Eileen celebrated Jack bringing them back from the veil but-"  
"Ew. Didn't need those details."  
Sam groaned. "But is now really the time for one night stands?"  
Cas then walked in, similarly shamble-y and zombie like in nature, wearing his trench coat over briefs. Also with- wait what the fuck?  
Dean gave Cas a once over as soon as he had entered, biting his lip and checking out- ew, admiring? - Cas' hickeys.   
"Got you coffee," Dean said, handing Cas a mug. "Sleepy little angel," he muttered.  
"Good morning Dean," Cas grumbled, pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek and settling down on a kitchen chair.  
"So what about the one night stand, Sammy?" Dean chuckled while Sam was still trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.  
"You- you-" Sam pointed from Cas to Dean and back again. "You two? Together?"  
"Since last night. Which was a great night, wanna know what Cas can do with-"  
"Stop!' Sam yelled, covering his ears. "Stop! I'm happy for you! I'm going to go bleach my brain out," he said, fleeing the kitchen. He had to tell Eileen this.  
Damn, Sam thought, so many things make so much more sense now.

**Author's Note:**

> First posted fic, be gentle. I hope it's satisfying


End file.
